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Posts published in “Idaho”

What the abortion initiative does

State supreme court decisions about acceptable language used to define ballot initiatives - an issue not just in Idaho but elsewhere too - may seem like deep inside baseball stuff.

But because it directly influences how people vote, at the moment of voting, these descriptions should catch our attention. The abortion initiative on the ballot this fall will pass or fail in large part based on what Idahoans think they’re voting on. Last weekend, the Idaho Supreme Court decided that question. Sort of.

The initiative from Idahoans United for Women and Families (the concise text is online) has been approved to appear on the November ballot. A key question is, how will people perceive what they’re voting on? Will it open the doors to completely unconstrained and unregulated abortions, or will it scale back cruel and draconian extreme restrictions on human rights? Both concepts are being pushed.

When an initiative appears on an Idaho ballot, it comes with a short description provided by the state. Here is what the state first proposed as the impact of a yes vote:

“A YES vote would create reproductive rights, including a right to abortion before a fetus’s ability to survive and after a fetus’s ability to survive in cases of a medical emergency, and provide liability protections for healthcare providers.”

Idahoans United asked the Supreme Court to throw out that description. It did, but shortly after a majority of the justices approved this one:

“A YES vote would support creating a right to abortion before fetal viability—defined as a fetus’ ability to survive without extraordinary medical measures—and after fetal viability in cases of medical emergency; providing protections against professional discipline and civil and criminal liability for healthcare providers; and codifying a statutory reproductive right to freedom and privacy.”

This is a little more detailed, but not drastically different. Here’s the same exercise with the effect of a “no” vote.

First, the initial state submission:”A NO vote would make no change to Idaho’s current law, which protects the life of the unborn while allowing abortion in reported cases of rape or incest, or when necessary to protect the life of the mother.”

Then the court-approved version: “A NO vote would support making no change to Idaho’s current law, which preserves the life of preborn children by prohibiting abortion, except when necessary to prevent the death of the pregnant woman, and during the first trimester in documented cases of rape or incest reported to law enforcement.”

Those subtle differences were apparently enough for the majority to conclude, “ the revised statements are consistent with the views expressed in our prior opinion dated September 4, 2026, and that they also substantially comply with the requirements of Idaho Code section 34-1810(1)(b). Accordingly, Idahoans United’s objection is overruled.”

There was a dissent from Justice Colleen Zahn. She said the majority was correct on the “yes” portion but not on the “no” description “because it introduces new terminology not found in the Idaho statutes at issue or in the ballot materials for the Reproductive Freedom and Privacy Act and because the revised No Statement only restates one aspect of current Idaho law, thus failing to substantially comply with the statutory requirement that the statement clearly convey the effect of a ‘no’ vote.”

She also pointed out that “the revised No Statement fails to clearly convey the effect of a ‘no’ vote because it uses different language than current Idaho law regulating abortion” and “the revised No Statement fails to substantially comply because it does not clearly advise the voter of current Idaho law concerning licensing, civil, and criminal liability for healthcare providers.”

Like abortion law itself, this kind of descriptive language is hell on precision when it comes to actual practical effects, what can and may or must not be done in actual medical offices, by people facing imminent and critical decisions. Statute books tend not to translate well to those environments.

What’s a voter to do? The best option is to read the initiative text for yourself. It’s in plain English and won’t take long.

Beyond that, try this:

If you like what the Idaho legislature has done about abortion in the last five years or so, or think they haven’t gone far enough, vote no.

If you dislike what the legislature has done, or think it’s gone too far, vote yes.

Easy. But that probably wouldn’t clear the Supreme Court.

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Darrell Manning

Darrell Manning, who died last month at 94, was smack in the middle of Idaho’s hot and pivotal politics of the 60s. He served four terms as a Democratic state representative from Bannock County, and rose to Democratic House caucus leader, which you do only if you take party loyalty seriously. He was also the Democratic nominee for the U.S. House in 1968, losing to Republican Orval Hansen.

By any reasonable definition, Manning was a partisan politician, albeit lacking the hard edge. Hansen, who defeated him in 1968, described the campaign in his memoir: “On occasion we made joint appearances in the campaign. They were always polite and friendly, to the disappointment of some who wanted to see more of a fight.” Hansen and Manning had been and remained friends..

In the nearly half-century since he became known as something different: A man trusted by people from all over, a leader whose ability to work in government at times was the difference that sometimes kept pieces of Idaho government from flying apart. For decades, he was, as people have often described him, Idaho’s Mr. Fixit.

His days as a partisan have been all but forgotten. It turned out his major work in government was just beginning.

One big part of it started back in 1955, when he enlisted in the U.S. Air Force. Combining that and his service in the Idaho National Guard, where for a decade he was adjutant general, he never entirely left. He piloted scores of different types of aircraft, but his impact on the development and structure of Idaho’s in-state military operations over a period of decades was profound.

But that was only part of it.

When Cecil Andrus was elected governor in 1970, he looked around for people to populate his new administration, and quickly seized on the Pocatello Democrat he had worked with in the legislature, Darrell Manning. Well aware of his air force background, the new governor named him director of the Idaho Department of Aeronautics - and later, when that agency was merged into a new Idaho Transportation Department, he made him director there too.

In these roles Manning became known for an unusual capacity for getting along with people -- hardly anyone seemed to have anything negative to say about him -- but also as an unusually adept solver of problems, handled in ways that tended to ruffle remarkably few feathers, filling the roles of manager and leader equally well.

Little wonder that he served in state offices in all of Andrus’ terms, or those of fellow Democrat John Evans (like Manning a southeast Idahoan). But Republican Governors Phil Batt, Dirk Kempthorne and C.L. “Butch” Otter made heavy use of his services too, often bringing in him to manage agencies -- a lot of them over the years -- which had problems, reasonably confident he could solve them. Which he generally did.

In today’s overheated politics, people and careers like that seem almost hard to imagine, and to the cynics among us sound like fantasy. But Manning was real, and so was the example he set.

I interviewed him from time to time during his state executive years, but in the last couple of decades saw him mainly at a Boise morning coffee group of political, legal, journalistic and other such folk. (Manning would opt for a diet Coke.) He was sociable but not especially talkative, and rarely spoke much about himself. You wouldn’t listen to him for the cutting jab or the witty rejoinder, because he didn’t go in for much of that.

But when he spoke, everyone at the table listened. He spoke the truth, and he spoke with respect for other people.

If you want to know the secret of Manning’s management style, what kept him in favor with so many different kinds of political people over so many years, that might have been it.

 

Where Idahoans think of Trump

We know what Idaho voters - in the aggregate - thought of Donald Trump in the last three presidential elections: They backed him 66.9% in 2024, and 63.8% in 2020 and 59.2% in 2016.

But how does that compare to now, as the midterm elections approach? And - less discussed - does his level of approval vary around the state?

Some clues emerge in an absorbing report in the polling analysis site Strength in Numbers, led by G. Elliot Morris (whose Substack is well worth a review), and drawing on an unusually large and detailed data set.

It gives Trump a national support average of 38.2%, which if anything is a bit higher than some others do. Like several other recent studies, it shows Idaho at 50.6%, ranked third nationally in Trump support, behind only West Virginia (54.3%) and Oklahoma (53%). It is immediately ahead of South Dakota (also 50.6%) and Wyoming (50.5%).

But how about within Idaho? Which parts of Idaho support Trump more or less?

The Strength in Numbers data isn’t extensive or precise enough for county breakdowns, but it does split the state into a dozen PUMAS - Census Public Use Microdata Areas, each with around 100,000 adults. They split up Idaho in ways most Idahoans won’t immediately recognize, but generally cohere.

Here are those areas, from strongest Trump support to weakest.

Central Idaho, Lewiston area south to Boise County and east to Lemi and Clark counties - 59.2%. This is geographically the largest area, the most rural, with people spread farthest apart.

The Coeur d’Alene, Post Falls and Hayden area - 57.5. Far smaller in square mileage, but dominated by the new and fast-growing suburbs in western Kootenai County.

Outlying southwest, from Washington, Payette and Gem to northern Canyon County- 56.1%. Most of the people here would be living in fast-growing Canyon, but parts of the other counties have a bedroom community feel.

Twin Falls and Cassia counties - 54.8%. A mix of growing industrial areas and quieter farm communities.

Southern Canyon and Owyhee counties - 54.1%. Most of the area is deeply rural, but most of the people live in new-growth Nampa and Caldwell: Again, lots of newcomers here.

Panhandle south through Latah County, except the Coeur d’Alene, Post Falls and Hayden area - 53.7%. Were you expecting a higher Trump percentage here? I was. But much of this is stable rural country with far less influx than the Kootenai suburbs. (Also, it includes the University of Idaho.)

Bingham (except Fort Hall), Madison, Fremont, Jefferson and Teton counties - 53.2%. This is very conservative, Republican territory, but it seems less Trump-enthusiastic than some other areas.

Bonneville County- 52.2%. The urban center of Idaho Falls may be driving down the numbers here.

Eastern Canyon County (Nampa) and western Meridian - 51.6%. Another high-growth area like western Kootenai or southern Canyon, but seemingly less Trump-centric. Could the closeness to Boise city be a factor?

Southeast Idaho including Pocatello, Power and Bear Lake counties and Fort Hall area - 50.9%. Pocatello, which even now is politically marginal, may dampen the Trump numbers a little, but the very rural areas around it aren’t pushing back as much as expected with higher figures.

Northern Magic Valley, from Elmore to Blaine to Jerome to Minidoka counties - 49%. True, the Wood River Valley is here, but that offers only a slice of Democratic countering to the other counties, which all are strongly Republican. Support this low is notable.

Eastern Meridian and western Boise - 46.1%. Boise is blue and Meridian has been red; the boundaries of this area may be just enough for Boise to outweigh in the balance.

Most of Boise, southern Ada through Kuna - 34.7%. Trump is about as popular in central Boise as you might expect.

North and west Boise and Garden City - 33.1%. Here too.

A few thoughts.

The dividing lines in Trump support aren’t entirely where you’d expect. Sure, Boise’s opposition is no surprise, since it has been a blue city for a couple of decades and more. There are some indications here too, maybe, of a little softening of support in the Meridian area - and in the northern Magic Valley.

On the other side, the most rural areas in Idaho generally stick with Trump the most. The massive central Idaho area from Lewiston to Cascade and east across to the Montana line is the Trumpiest part of Idaho. But it’s also true that the newest and fastest-growing suburbs are right behind. Heavy Trump support shows up in the most rural areas and in the fastest-growing suburbs.

Could be that the fault lines in Idaho politics are changing a little.

 

Catching the bus

You watch the bus go by, and take it for granted. Most people do, most of the time, whether we use it at the moment or not.

In Nampa, in the year to come, maybe less so. And for some people, the presence or absence of that bus could be a matter of crisis.

Start with the point that bus transit in the Boise region is well short of comprehensive, and always has been. Most large population centers have large mass transit operations, such as those in the metro areas on the west coast. Idaho, Washington and Oregon between them have 157 transit systems of various types - urban, rural, small urban and tribal. Regionally, though, Idaho hasn’t kept up.

This isn’t because nobody noticed. It’s because many people in the state orient to a car (or truck) method of moving around, and large transit systems smack of government service (ick, for many Idahoans) and are reminiscent of the kind of large-population places many recent Idaho newcomers had fled.

So consider Nampa, one of Idaho’s fast-growing cities at well over 100,000 people, and home to many of those newcomers, whose vision of the Idaho they were coming to did not include extensive urban services.

Nampa has been a part of the Valley Regional Transit service, a free-standing organization led by local government officials which manages “public bus transit, specialized van services, paratransit, Park & Ride, and more,” and while centered in Boise reaches parts of Caldwell, Meridian and Nampa. The local governments kick in to the system to help keep it running, but the Transit system has no taxing authority.

On July 15, the Nampa City Council decided to end completely its share of funding for the transit program, effectively ending it within city limits. Did the council members understand what that meant?

The transit system soon brought the receipts. Examples: Valley Transit runs an on-demand service, which in the last fiscal year served 18,000 Nampa boarders headed to various places in Boise for people who had no other practical transport option. Route 42, which connects a Nampa transit center to key stops in Boise, serves about 13,000 a year. Route 40, serving the Nampa-Caldwell area and also connecting to many places in Boise, served 3,250 Nampa boarders.

On August 4, Transit held a public hearing on the Nampa decision, and heard from dozens of people. The agency summarized some of the comments:

“Many riders shared they do not drive due to disability, age, or income. Some said that without transit, they would lose their ability to work, attend medical appointments, or remain self?sufficient. Others described past experiences losing mobility when Access services were reduced and expressed concern for that to happen again.

“CWI students and parents emphasized that cutting service would make it harder — or impossible — for some students to reach campus. Some said it could affect their ability to maintain enrollment or continue degree programs.

“Riders explained that they depend on the early?morning or evening connections to get to work in Boise, Meridian, Caldwell, and Nampa. Several testified that losing transit would threaten their jobs or force their families to purchase second vehicles they cannot afford.”

For these people, bus service is more necessity than convenience.

Maybe some of that got through at Nampa City Hall. On August 17, the council voted to reinstate a slice of the city’s Transit funding (about a third of it, though that depends on how you count), continuing some services, but eliminating others.

They may not be able to stand still with that. Nampa is continuing to grow, and as it does, the number of people who need public transit will grow too. That’s the nature of a growing urban area, which - like it not - is what Nampa is in the process of becoming.

The day is likely to come, maybe not soon but eventually, when the need for such services becomes too obvious to deny. When it does more than just bus traffic may change in Nampa, and other places nearby.

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A Flock of watchers

“You are being watched.”

That was the opening line for a TV series a few years back called Person of Interest, billed then as a sci-fi show, though it barely was at the time, and really isn’t at all now. The key component was a computer system capable of tracking movements and activities of just about everyone, able to predict if they might do something nefarious.

It was brought to mind by the recent rash of headlines, in Idaho but also nationally, about mass surveillance and a company called Flock Safety.

Flock, based in Atlanta, provides to local governments cameras and a comprehensive image data network which captures traffic activity, operating Automated License Plate Readers (ALPRs). The website DeFlock Idaho (which as its name indicates opposes the effort) says that “When a vehicle passes one of these cameras, it automatically captures the license plate number, vehicle make, color, and any distinguishing features such as roof racks, tool boxes, damage, dents, political sticker, and many others along with the date, time, and precise location. That data is uploaded immediately to Flock’s private cloud servers. Flock cameras run continuously. Every vehicle that passes is logged, stored, and made searchable whether or not the driver has done anything wrong, is under any investigation, or has ever had any contact with law enforcement.”

There are a lot of these cameras: More than 100,000 nationally, almost 90% from Flock Safety. (Many of the rest, including those in Meridian, use Axon Outpost Automated License Plate Reader system.) There is no official list of where all the cameras are located, though some unofficial maps have been constructed..

The intention is public safety. Flock says it “brings together the tools that organizations rely on every day, helping law enforcement, schools, businesses, and neighborhoods respond faster, investigate more effectively, and work together from the same platform.” It said (or suggested) that 10,000 missing people were found, massive numbers of stolen vehicles were located, and law enforcement using Flock evidence in clearing numerous crimes. The law enforcement usefulness seems evident.

In Idaho, a 2025 state law says “data shall not be used for any purpose other than the investigation of felony or misdemeanor crimes or traffic accidents or to search for missing or endangered persons.”

For some people that’s good enough, but it makes many others uneasy. Any tool once created can be abused. Exactly who or what organizations might gain access to the information now, or in future, isn’t crystal clear, though the basic usage is stated to be for law enforcement and safety. One news story said the “Twin Falls Police Department ALPR systems have been searched for immigration-related purposes at least 631 times across March, May and June of 2026.” Cambridge Analytica reported in June that “Over a dozen documented cases across multiple states show officers using Flock Safety’s network to stalk ex-partners and conduct unauthorized surveillance, resulting in criminal charges and terminations.” The Washington Post counted 50.

Not to mention that even carefully-designed computer systems can be hacked by outsiders.

A lot of this explains why ALPRs have become one of the most explosive local topics in Idaho this year. And it’s not theoretical, because most of Idaho’s larger cities have ALP contracts in place already.

Now quite a few residents are getting upset about them. Big crowds `appeared at city meetings in Idaho Falls and Caldwell. Pocatello’s city council is taking a close look at the cameras, with concerns in mind.

At least two Idaho local governments have rejected the cameras: Jerome city and Clearwater County, which is letting an agreement lapse. Idaho Falls is adjusting its contract. Hayden’s city council told concerned residents the cameras aren’t coming there.

Post Falls Mayor Randy Westlund said he is “firmly opposed to unconstitutional mass surveillance and the construction of large national databases which track the movement of citizens.”

The point of all this isn’t to weigh in on one side of this: ALPRs clearly have both pluses and minuses, with some clear benefits and some clear risks and problems. The point is that these issues should be hashed out in public, with the public, before the program is simply launched.

As it is, the politics and management of the program seem likely to become messy.

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Nuclear reversal

Read the fine print and pay attention to the stuff they tell you at the end of the pitch.

Idaho has been chosen as one of five states (the others are Utah, Tennessee, Oklahoma and Louisiana) under consideration to host one of three national Nuclear Lifecycle Innovation Campuses. Landing one of those, the pitch went, would mean jobs, business opportunities - money! “Campus” was nice verbiage: It sounds like a leafy college setting.

Or that’s the mental image. There’s little real clarity about what it would mean as a practical matter. The closest the Department of Energy gets to explaining what these campuses would be is that they “could support activities across the full nuclear fuel lifecycle, including fuel fabrication, enrichment, reprocessing used nuclear fuel, and disposition of waste. Depending on state priorities and regional capabilities, the sites could also host advanced reactor deployment, power generation, advanced manufacturing, and co-located data centers.” (Data centers! Yum.)

Mostly, the description sounds like what the Idaho National Laboratory already does, and has done for decades. It has been the nation’s locus for cutting-edge nuclear research, with new reactor projects announced regularly and private spinoffs in the Magic Valley and elsewhere. The national divide into three campuses carries the uneasy tone of a diminution of Idaho’s role in the field.

But wait: Beyond that, there’s a little phrase buried in the middle of that: “Deposition of waste.” You know, the nuclear waste that Idaho state government has spent half a century trying to block from the state.

It’s been quite a few years since the subject of importing nuclear waste was big headlines in Idaho, but it once was as hot a topic as any, and concern about it was bipartisan.

In his memoir, Cecil Andrus made the point that the wrong waste seeping into the wrong places could be disastrous for Idaho agriculture, industry and human safety:”I am not a nuclear scientist, but I understood one point from the beginning: Radioactive garbage from the nuclear reservation in Idaho could not - must not - be allowed to come anywhere near the Snake River aquifer.”

He recalled that “I tried to play constructive critic during my first stint as governor in the 1970s, receiving - and believing - promises of action (on removing nuclear waste) from the federal government. Since those pledges proved worthless, I confronted the Department of Energy in the late 1980s. The state of Idaho provoked a crisis by banning further waste shipments from beyond Idaho’s border.”

Andrus was a Democrat, but his successor Phil Batt, had views on nuclear waste not drastically different; he agreed, for example, with Andrus’ take on the aquifer (and in his memoir estimated 90% of Idahoans did as well). He doggedly negotiated an agreement with the feds sharply limiting the state’s exposure to nuclear waste, and getting much of it shipped out. He said he got from the feds “every ounce of flesh I could get,” and he may have been right. The action part of the deal ran through the last century.

The deal has not held up perfectly, but for the most part it has shielded Idaho from becoming the nuclear garbage waste dump of the nation.

The eventual costs of cleaning out unsecured nuclear waste can be beyond enormous. Consider the Hanford site in south-central Washington, where every year - for decades - billions of dollars have been spent in cleanup activities. In 2022, after a generations-worth of cleanup work had been done, the estimated cost for finishing the job was put at somewhere between $300 and $640 billion. That’s serious money.

Now, if Idaho becomes one of the three “campus” hosts, it will be on the hook for hosting the nation’s nuclear waste. (And we all know how careful the Trump Administration is with handling such sensitive and risky projects.)

They used to say that Idaho is what America was. Today, we might say Idaho isn’t what Idaho was.

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Lessons from the west

Anyone wondering what to make of the shakeup in Idaho’s race for the U.S. Senate might be well advised to look across the state line at the election returns arriving there on Tuesday night (and beyond).

That is the night of the Washington state primary election, and the results from congressional district 5 - which borders all of northern Idaho on the west - will be well worth absorbing for people in the Gem State as well.

The Idaho Senate election shakeup, of course, was the shut down of Democrat David Roth’s candidacy, a couple of months after winning that party’s nomination. The result is an almost head to head contest (there are still a couple of little-known candidates likely to get no more than a sliver of the vote) between incumbent Republican Jim Risch and independent Todd Achilles.

The question of whether Roth should drop out to effectively clear the field has roiled non-Republican Idaho politics ever since the primary. Certainly it seems likely that whatever chance Achilles has for November - and assessments on that do vary, though he does seem to be a stronger contender than most non-Republicans - he surely will do better without a Democrat splitting the anti-Risch totals.

Polling on this has been inconclusive. Is there any way to get a sense of how this revised Senate race may play out in November?

Yes: Pay attention to the Washington 5th.

While western Washington is, as a whole, strongly Democratic, and its votes usually dominate statewide contests, the two eastern congressional districts are Republican. (The state’s other eight districts all are held by Democrats.) The 5th district, which stretches west from Idaho nearly to the Tri-Cities and from Oregon to Canada, was for three decades the base for Democrat Tom Foley (who served as speaker of the House). But since his defeat in 1994 it has been solidly Republican. Despite occasional strong Democratic candidates, such as Lisa Brown - then a veteran and leading state legislator and now mayor of Spokane - Republican congressional candidates there have maintained a steady state of winning votes of around 60%, give or take a couple of points, cycle after cycle.

That would seem to give the Republican incumbent, Michael Baumgartner, a certain don’t-worry-about-it level of comfort. But this year he’s doing something really concerned candidates do: Trying to influence who his opponent will be by spending (substantial) advertising money to prop up one of them.

A big field of 11 have filed against him, but two look to be the serious contenders: Democrat Carmela Conroy and independent Nate Powell. Conroy ran against Baumgartner two years ago and got 39.3%; she maintains she would be stronger in a second run and that the incumbent, who is a very loyal Donald Trump supporter, will be weighed down by the White House. Powell, a Spokane firefighter, Marine veteran and first-time candidate, has a different take: Go after not only Trump but the political system.

The parallels are not exact but should be somewhat familiar to watchers of the Idaho Senate race. With this big difference:

Washington’s primary election system is a top two (the method Idaho voters rejected a couple of years ago), which means all the candidates run together in the election set for August 4, and the two leading vote-getters - whoever they are, of whatever party - go on to the November ballot. Baumgartner will almost certainly be one of them, but who will be the other? The real immediate contest appears to be between Conroy and Powell.

One more point is worth mentioning. A long-standing rule of thumb in Washington politics is that primary election results offer good indicators of how the general election vote will shape up.

Remember that money Baumgartner is spending to influence the opposition race? It’s being used to “attack” Conroy - in terms that make her look good to local Democrats. He is, in other words, trying to boost her over independent Powell. He appears to see Powell as the larger threat.

Which brings us to the Tuesday election. Take a look over the border and observe how strong a primary vote Baumgartner gets (if it's much over 50% he may be in good shape), and the relative votes for Powell and Conroy. Taken together, these numbers may be useful markers in evaluating Idaho’s Senate race.

 

The future of Idaho birth care?

You may recall the decision in March 2023 by Bonner General Hospital in Sandpoint to close its obstetric services, for reasons evidently related to the arrival of Idaho’s new abortion laws. This was not an aberration, as Idaho overall has lost about a third of its practicing obstetricians since 2022.

Here’s a followup to the situation in Sandpoint, suggesting what other communities may see.

Sandpoint today has the 7B Care Clinic (operated by Life Choices Pregnancy Center Inc.), a non-profit “free women's health clinic in Sandpoint, ID, providing pregnancy and sexual health services, resources, referrals, and education to women and families. We believe each individual has the right to get information from a resource that will not profit from their reproductive health choices.”

That’s the most prominent message you get on the clinic website, but there are other relevant facts too.

One is that the Clinic (and Center), as its executive director recently wrote, “has always operated as a Christian, faith-based ministry. Our mission, public communications, governing documents, website, and organizational practices clearly reflect that identity. At no time did we attempt to conceal our religious nature or the values that guide our ministry.”

Another is that while the clinic does have some nursing staff, it does not have a physician, an M.D. That’s a significant limitation, one the clinic evidently and reasonably would like to redress.

So it seemed a big deal when in May the 7B Care Clinic reached an agreement with Newport Hospital and Health Services, just across the Washington state line in Newport, for up to six of its physicians to provide OB/GYN services at the Sandpoint clinic.

When time came to begin that work, however, Newport terminated the agreement.

Stories from the two sides conflict about when 7B Care Clinic’s requirements of the doctors were made known to Newport, but based on local news reports there seems none about what they were, and they were a deal breaker.

Included in a document the physicians were expected to sign (and declare they agreed with) was a provision that they were “expected to know Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior and to conduct their lives in accordance with Biblical principles. Thus, each person who is single must be committed to sexual purity and those married must be in a heterosexual marriage consisting of one biological man and one biological woman.”

There were limitations concerning what medical care might be provided. Some are what you’d expect for a pro-life pregnancy facility: “We do not recommend, provide or refer for abortion or abortifacients.” Others may be less obvious: “We do not recommend, provide, or refer single women for contraceptives. Married women and their husbands seeking this information are urged to counsel with their pastor and physician.”

The physicians were also expected to sign off on a rather specific “statement of faith,” not only affirming their Christianity but specific items of doctrine (which not all Christians would necessarily agree with), such as, “We believe that for salvation of the lost and sinful man, regeneration by the Holy Spirit is absolutely essential, and that this salvation is received through faith in Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord, and not as the result of good works.”

The decision by Newport to say “no thanks” should be no shock.

The bigger shock would come if 7B, operating with its current rules and structure, manages easily to find licensed physicians who would accept all those terms.

By itself, this is a small-bore development in a small community. But the economic and legal dynamics that got Sandpoint here can apply all over Idaho. It may have been first to experience a story like this, but it’s not likely the last.

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A campaign to define

What is the abortion initiative, really?

How Idaho voters answer that question will decide the fate of the new abortion-related initiative that may dominate Idaho politics in the next three and a half months.

After not just a few years but decades of Idaho Legislatures passing anti-abortion laws, Idaho voters this year will have a chance to speak to it directly. They have consistently re-elected legislators who passed those laws, but was that the reason for that support or just a by-product? We’ll soon find out.

The group Idahoans United for Women and Families collected 110,000 petition signatures to get their initiative on this November’s ballot. The petitioning rules are complex and daunting; another initiative effort this year, on cannabis, fell short. The high bar can help advocates win in November, since they’ve already had to put together a major campaign. But it’s no guarantee, as backers of a ranked choice initiative found in 2024 when it crashed at the polls with less than a third of the vote in favor.

An initiative needs a simple majority - 50% of the vote plus one - to pass.

Some polling has found majorities of Idahoans opposed to the current Idaho abortion regime, which is one of the most draconian - a nearly complete ban - in the nation. In January, a Boise State University poll found “Idahoans’ support is generally high– 61% of respondents supported the initiative if given the proposed name, while 59% of respondents supported it if the name was omitted. … While there is little difference between samples for Republicans (45% with name compared to 47%), 90% of Democrats and 66% of Independents supported the initiative if provided the name, while 94% of Democrats and 60% of Independents supported the initiative if the name was omitted.”

Idaho will be one of several states (Nevada, Virginia and Missouri are others) with abortion issues up for consideration in November. One study of abortion measures from 1970 to 2024 showed choice-backed measures winning 71.4% of 21 ballot issues, and life-backed measures 27.3% (out of 44).

None of which necessarily predicts an Idaho result. What will the voters here do?

My estimate: It depends on what voters think they are voting on. How is the measure commonly described? What do voters think it will do, most basically?

The Iduhoans United measure self-describes: “This statute upholds a person’s rights to make their own decisions based on their own values, health care needs, and circumstances - free from the fear of external pressures or punitive consequences to them or their health care provider. The act supports a person’s right to reproductive freedom and privacy, protects the confidential nature of the patient-provider relationship, and secures a person’s right to make their own health care decisions without government interference.”

A statement from the Idaho Republican Party (which has declared war on the initiative, even pressuring legislators already to repeal it next session) outlines what the opposition will look like:

“The same measure that covers contraception and miscarriage care also legalizes abortion—even up to nine months as long as a provider says a delay might harm a woman's health.” Actually, no: The initiative draws a specific line at viability other than for a medical emergency.

“The initiative doesn’t reinstate any specific past Idaho statute. It creates new statutory language whose practical limits go far beyond what was allowed under Roe v. Wade. This is not going back to Roe. This is going past it.” It does create new language intended to overwrite existing law, but the thrust of it is not identical but similar to the regime under Roe, whether you like that or not.

“This initiative creates a broad ‘right’ to sexual libertinism with no age limit. It could be interpreted to conflict with parental rights and prohibit the protection of children.” The first is nowhere in the initiative; and finding rights restrictions for parents and children in a measure so specifically aimed at expanding them amounts to,(to be over-generous), a really creative interpretation.

“Idaho law protected both mothers and preborn life from the very beginning—starting after we became a territory in 1864. It was Roe v. Wade that was extreme and unprecedented.” Roe was a change all right; whether it was extreme or unwarranted would be a matter of individual opinion.

“Proposition 1 claims to protect conscience rights for physicians, but leaves out churches, pregnancy centers, faith-based providers, and more.” The initiative would have no effect on those other groups as far as expression of conscience is concerned.

So, what’s the initiative about? The best answer, as both the advocates and critics have suggested, lies in reading this short four-page document. The vote may hinge on how many people do.